The Rules for Disappearing (19 page)

About halfway through the movie, I have no food left. I’m petrified about what comes next. I push all the empty containers on the floor and lean closer into Ethan.

“Are you scared?” He whispers to me.

I look at him with big eyes. “Are you kidding me? Of course I’m scared. This movie is crazy. Who even thinks up crap like this?”

In the movie, some crazy
thing
jumps out from behind a door with a hatchet and I scream and put my head into Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan leans his head close to mine. “This is why guys like to

take girls to scary movies.”

I punch him in the arm. “You may be sorry you brought me

when I tear out of here screaming.”

He puts his arm around me and I watch the rest of the movie

from the corner of my eye. Maybe we should have gone for the chick flick.

Once the movie is over I feel kind of gross. We ate all that food, and then my nerves almost make me throw it back up.

—S

Ethan holds my hand as we walk to the car.

—N

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“Where to now?” he asks.

“Oh. I don’t know.” I glance at my watch and it’s only quarter to ten. “What are you thinking?’

We get to his truck and Ethan leans me against the door. “I’m

thinking I don’t want to take you home yet.”

I can feel my cheeks getting warm. “Oh.”

He kisses me lightly on the lips. “Do you have to go home now

or can you stay out a while?”

At this moment, I can’t even remember what my fake name is.

“I need to call home first.”

He grins big and hands me his phone. Dad answers on the sec-

ond ring.

“Dad, I’m going to stay out a little longer.”

“Where are you?”

“Just leaving the movies. I won’t be long.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes. Bye.” I hand Ethan back his phone, and we crawl into the truck. “Where are we going?”

“I thought we could go to my house.”

No. No meeting parents. No crazy sister and no crazy sister’s

boyfriend who may or may not be present. “Is that our only choice?”

I try to keep my tone upbeat, but Ethan catches something in my voice.

“You didn’t want to come over last night either. Something

wrong with coming to my house?”

Yes. Everything is wrong. “No.”

S—

We’re still sitting in the parking spot at the theater. Ethan

N—

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stares out the front windshield. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t like where this is going.

He throws his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. “I wasn’t going to do this.”

Definitely not good. “Do what?”

He leans forward and opens his glove box, pulling put a crum-

pled piece of paper. He toys with it for a second then shoots those baby blues at me. “Is your real name Avery Preston?”

Ho-ly shit! My mouth is open but no words will come out. He

unfolds the paper and produces a picture of three girls with a news article below it. I know what it is instantly. I got my ass chewed out over that article by one of the suits. In our third placement, I was on my school’s dance line. I placed in the top three for the high kickers contest, and we made the local paper. Avery Preston was my name when we lived in Naples, Florida.

I grab the article from him.

“I wasn’t sure it was you until I printed it.”

Printed in black and white, the blue eyes and the blond hair fade away. It looks exactly like me now except my hair is long. How in the world did he find this?

I crumple up the paper and stuff it into my bag. I can’t look at him.

“That’s you, isn’t it?” He nudges my leg.

“How did you find that?”

He shrugs. “Mary and I were talking the other night about fishing. She said Paradise Coast was the best place to catch fish. The second she said it, she clammed up. Wouldn’t hardly talk to me for

—S

—N

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twenty minutes. I’ve been to Paradise Coast. It’s around Naples, Florida. I know you’re not from Lewisville, so I Googled the area and found that article.”

I want to get out of the truck and run. Far away. But we’re so far from my house, I wouldn’t know how to find my way back.

“Take me home.”

“Not until you talk to me.” He cranks the truck and the heat

blasts all over me. “Is that you in the picture?”

Pulling my legs in, I drop my forehead on my knees. If the suits find out he knows this much we’re gone. And after my conversation with Agent Thomas, it’ll be some safe house crawling with suits. I roll my head toward him. He’s watching me. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” He throws the truck in

reverse.

We drive for a while, country music playing softly in the background. He parks at the end of Front Street, close to the Vistor’s Center. All the shops are dark and the street is deserted so I wait by the side of the truck, unsure of why we’re here.

He comes around to my side. “I thought we could sit by the

water. It’s not too cold tonight.”

I look down the hill toward the river that runs through town.

He grabs an extra jacket from the backseat and I follow him

down a set of stone steps that curve around a rock waterfall that leads to the river. There’s a small dock just over the water and Ethan spreads the jacket out and we both drop down on it, side by side, facing the water.

S—

We’re silent for what feels like forever.

N—

“You can tell me anything. You should know that,” Ethan says.

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“How would I know that? I’ve been here for what . . . two

weeks?” I spin around to face him. “And why so nosy about me?

Have you been drilling Mary for information about us this whole time? You’re acting like her friend, but you’re using her!”

I’m so pissed right now.

He faces me. “No! It’s not like that. Nothing about you made

sense. You’re always so nervous. You wouldn’t talk about your family, your friends, your old school, nothing.” He snatches his cap off his head and throws it on the dock.

I turn away from him, but he pulls me back around, holding my

hands. “You got in my head. It’s driving me nuts not being able to figure you out. Talk to me.”

I shake my head. “I can’t.” It’s hard to stay mad at him. He moves his hands to my face and inches me closer.

“I can keep a secret. Whatever you tell me stays right here.”

He’s so close our noses almost touch.

Oh my God, I want to tell him everything. I’m almost bursting

with it. And that little niggling thread of hope that Dad’s going to fix this is almost the push I need. If we get out, I can stay here—as long as I want.

I could be with Ethan—as long as I want.

“That was me in the picture. My name is Avery Preston. My

dad moved us here because he got into some trouble in Florida. You can’t tell anyone.” I’m going to hell for lying. I’ve done it for so long now it flows right out of mouth even when I want to tell the truth.

“What happened?” He squeezes my hands.

I shake my head. “No, I can’t tell you. Just promise me you won’t

—S

tell anyone what my name is.”

—N

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He leans back and looks at me funny. Does he believe me?

Can he tell I’m full of crap? He shakes his head and his forehead scrunches up. “Does this have something to do with that bag you haul around?” he asks. He’s not going to let this go.

“Kind of.” I put my hands on his cheeks and pull him back to me.

“Don’t ask me anything else.”

He opens his mouth, I’m sure to ask another question, so I do

the only thing I can think of to get him to stop talking—kiss him.

And he kisses me right back.

My hands explore his chest while his wander to my hips. We fall back until we’re lying down on the dock, the coat little protection against the cold wood. But it doesn’t matter.

Ethan’s hand edges up the hem of my shirt and the rough pads

of his fingers skim across the tender flesh at my stomach before moving around to my back. Every spot he touches sends tingles

through my body. I move my hands up his neck to the back of his hair, wrapping my fingers into his thick curls.

As our legs intertwine and our hands wander, all the worries

and the plans fly away. I could stay here with him, like this, all night. And then I realize I want to stay here with him, in this town, for as long as possible. And that feeling probably scares me more than anything else.

When we pull into the parking lot near my house, I spot Dad

heading into the laundry room. Ethan offers to walk me to the door, but I turn him down, kissing him quickly before hopping out of the S—

truck. I have to find out what Dad’s doing. I’m pretty sure it’s not N—

laundry.

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I’m praying someone didn’t close the window along the back

wall that’s usually open or there’s no way I will be able to hear what he’s doing in there.

I make my way around the side of the building, my feet crunch-

ing loudly on the dead leaves. It will be a miracle if he doesn’t hear me coming.

I use the go-bag as a stool to peek in the high window, which, thankfully, is still open.

Dad has discovered the phone in the laundry room. It’s right

next to the window, so he’s got his back to me. I work my toe in a spot where a brick is missing and hitch myself a little higher.

“This is bullshit. I said I’m working on it.” Dad’s pacing, but the cord is keeping him on a short leash.

Three tight circles later, he says, “If I can get it, I’ll need some guarantee that my family will be safe.”

Oh. My. God. Who is he talking to?

“I don’t believe you.” His voice is controlled, but his movements are jerky.

Five more circles. “What happens if I can’t find it?”

Dad leans against the wall. “No, you’ve made that very clear.”

Dad slams the phone in the cradle and I almost fall off the wall.

I grab my bag and haul ass to the house, praying I make it there before Dad sees me.

—S

—N

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RULES FOR DISAPPEARING

BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:

Know what you’re getting into before you get into it.

Ethan calls after lunch on Sunday and I meet him at the

coffee shop on Front Street where I first met Agent Thomas.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight.”

Sipping my latte, those blue eyes watch me until I put my cup

down. “Where?”

“To the farm.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. . . .”

I’m really nervous today and it’s probably due to Dad’s mys-

terious late-night phone conversations. I couldn’t look at him this morning. He was probably talking to the assholes looking for us and it sounded like he was making some sort of deal with them.

That’s his way of getting us out of this—work with whoever got us in this to begin with? I’m totally disgusted.

Ethan works his magic on me and like the weak ass I am, I

agree.

S—

The entire afternoon, I try to work up the nerve to call him and N—

cancel. I just can’t do it.

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It’s dark when Ethan picks me up. He’s dressed in camouflage

and Bandit is loaded up in the back of the truck. He doesn’t tell me until we’re halfway to the farm what we’ll be doing.

Hog hunting.

In my old life, I would have laughed if anyone ever suggested

this is how I would spend my evening. Apparently hogs rut through all the fields, tearing them apart and eating everything in sight.

Who knew?

And they are the only animal you can hunt legally at night, all year round. So I now have more knowledge about a hog than I ever thought would be necessary.

“So are we going to ride around in the truck to look for these hogs?” I ask. Ethan gave me some “hunting clothes” to wear over my own stuff. Looking at everything he handed me, I don’t think there’ll be an inch of skin showing once we’re all suited up.

Ethan chuckles. “I’m almost afraid to tell you too much. You

may bolt on me.”

I pick at the fingers on my gloves. “You’re right, because this seems crazy to me.” I look up at him. “Just tell me what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“We’ll be on four-wheelers. Main reason you need all the gear

is it’ll be cold. The dogs do most of the work, we follow them to the hogs.”

My eyes get big. “What do you mean the dogs do all the work?

Are you talking about Bandit?”

Ethan scrunches his forehead. “Hell no, he’ll just ride along with us. I’m talking about the dogs we keep at the farm. The hog dogs.”

—S

And he wonders why I look at everyone here like they’re from

—N

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another planet. I lean back against the door of the truck. “How are we supposed to follow the dogs in the dark? And if these hogs are so big and badass, how are the dogs not going to get hurt?”

Ethan just laughs. “You’ll see.”

At the farm, we make our way back to one of the big sheds that houses all the tractors and equipment. There are a few men hanging around, all dressed like us.